


Bi's in Space

by aalisse



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Hurt John Sheppard, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 22:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11815074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aalisse/pseuds/aalisse
Summary: "Okay," Rodney says from near him, and John opens his eyes, only now realizing that they've been closed the whole time. There's a first-aid kit at his side. Rodney's going through the meds, and John suppresses a full-body shudder at the thought of McKay trying to be a medic. "So. Gays in space.""D'you really need help with that?" John asks, and he really doesn't like how he sounds - too quiet, too breathy and too slow."No, I was going to ask why you chose your deathbed to come out on, of all places," Rodney says.





	Bi's in Space

"Rodney," John says, pressing the back of his head to the cold metal of jumper's back door. His voice sounds rough and too quiet, and there's an iron taste in his mouth. He swallows around it before trying again. "Rodney, I need you to do something for me."

"Not now, Sheppard," Rodney shouts, urgent and panicked. He's clinging to the controls of the jumper, his back stiff as he clumsily maneuvers the ship around a pile of asteroids. The jumper is shaking pretty badly and John closes his eyes, pressing his hand into the wound in his side harder. 

"Listen to me," he says, when the floor under him stops trying to pull off a river-dance. "I need you to call someone if I don't make it." 

"You aren't dying," Rodney objects, trying to both drive and do something in his laptop that sits perched on the control panel. 

John thinks it's gonna fall off and hit some buttons and then they're goners. He doesn't say that. He tries to breathe deeply, but his heartbeat is frantic and he finds it harder than expected to stay calm. He hates being on the other side of trying to say goodbye and being denied that luxury because of Atlantis' unofficial rule to be in denial of death until it's too late. 

"I didn't put in the number anywhere," John says. "Write it down somewhere." 

"You aren't dying John!" Rodney says firmly, turning around. The anger and determination both disappear off his face as he goes pale when his eyes focus on John. 

"Right," John says trying his best to sound sarcastic. "You ready to write?"

Rodney looks at him for a moment more. There's an expression in his eyes that John would rather not name, or see ever again. Rodney blinks and nods, turning back to his laptop. 

John tells him the number. Rodney nods again. It takes longer than expected, because Rodney still has to fly them to the gate and not crush into one of the space rocks floating around. 

"Ask for Dave Sheppard," John says when he's finished. His head swims and he really wants to close his eyes, so he pushes his head up and presses onto the wound harder. 

"Father?" Rodney asks, his voice a lot quieter than before. Funny, John's always thought that the day when McKay tries to be sensitive to other people's feelings is gonna be the day he will be able to die at peace, knowing he's see all there is to this world. 

"Brother," John says. He shakes his head, trying to keep himself awake. "Tell him I was a good guy or something like that. Throw in something about gays in space if you have a chance." He coughs when his attempt to swallow the blood in his mouth doesn't go well.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Rodney asks, half confused half annoyed, and John finds it funny that he seems to forget the tragedy of the situation for a second. 

"I'll let you figure that one out," he says, but it turns into a groan on the last word as the jumper's side engine hits a small asteroid, making the whole ship shake.

"Sorry, sorry," Rodney says as John squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth against the pain and the dizziness. "Look, we're almost out of the bumpy part, in an hour tops we'll be home, just hang in there." 

"Right," John says and focuses on not passing out. 

Five minutes after they're out of the asteroid belt he kind of misses bumps and jumps - at least they kept him awake. 

"Okay," Rodney says from near him, and John opens his eyes, only now realizing that they've been closed the whole time. There's a first-aid kit at his side. Rodney's going through the meds and John suppresses a full-body shudder at the thought of McKay trying to be a medic. "So. Gays in space." 

"D'you really need help with that?" John asks, and he really doesn't like how he sounds - too quiet, too breathy and too slow. 

"No, I was going to ask why you chose your deathbed to come out on, of all places," Rodney says. John hears the strain in his voice and the bravado of the chosen topic, but he lets it slide. Rodney unbuttons his shirt and cuts off the t-shirt under it with a knife that John hasn’t seen him draw. 

"Don't Ask," he begins, and groans at the feeling of disinfectant poured over his wound. "Don't Tell," he pushes through gritted teeth. He wonders when McKay managed to take his hand away from his side. 

"Right, because that's very relevant in another galaxy and because I can't keep a secret," McKay huffs, annoyed. His hands shake when he presses bandages to the wound. 

"Sorry," John says, closing his eyes again. "'M not good at..." he trails off and gestures a hand, trying to meld "feelings", "honesty", "sharing" and "timing" all in one weak wave of the wrist. He thinks that he really expected to be out by now. 

"Oh, really? Huh. You hide it so well," Rodney says sarcastically. John tugs a corner of his mouth up, giving him a lopsided smile. 

"Keep talking," he says, because he feels the conversation hit a dead end. "Need t' stay awake."

"Uh. Well, what do you want me to talk about?" Rodney asks, and he actually sounds a bit lost. Wow, John thinks. McKay doesn't know what to talk about. Today's just full of miracles. 

"'nything." He manages. He feels himself shiver and grabs blindly for Rodney's shoulder. 

"Hey, okay, easy, alright?" McKay says, pressing the bandages harder to his side, making John hiss quietly. "Here, I'll tell you something no one knows: I'm not straight either. Done lots of experimenting in college." 

John thinks of a joke about taking a secret to the grave and it sounds really, really funny in his head. Somehow he doubts his judgement on that. As his experience shows, nervousness and adrenaline aren't good for a man's sense of humor. He also knows that joking about death isn't fair to Rodney. 

"'m bi," he says instead. He feels his control slip away slowly. He's absolutely sure they have at least half an hour to go until they're home. He knows he has a minute of consciousness, max. 

"That makes two of us," Rodney says. "Pity 'bis in space' doesn't have much ring to it."

John hums in agreement. He doesn't notice his fingers unclench slowly - he's too busy fighting the darkness creeping on him. 

"Hey!" Rodney catches his hand before it can slip off his shoulder. "Sheppard, stay with me!" 

John clings to his voice, he clings to the pain and the cold and the warmth of McKay's hands on him. Unfortunately, even he's not stubborn enough to overpower blood loss with sheer power of will. 

Moments later he slips into the darkness. 

 

 

When he opens his eyes, first thing he can see is the ceiling of the infirmary. First thing he can hear is Rodney talking about something in a conservative tone. 

"Huh," he says, because he really didn't expect to wake up alive today. The talking stops abruptly, so he turns his head a little to see Rodney in the attender's seat. 

"You're awake," Rodney says like he can't exactly believe it. John grunts in agreement. Rodney's expression changes, and John notices that the guy looks different - the bags are prominent under his eyes and his face looks grayish and his hair is weird. He looks like he usually does when there's a major crisis and he has to sleep in his lab. He's frowning, too, as he visibly readjusts to the situation, his shoulders relaxing and slumping and his hand coming up to rub at his eyes. "God, you're a dickhead," he says tiredly.

"What the hell happened to you?" John tries to ask, because his priorities are sorted. It comes out as "'ht th 'ell 'appn'd t'you", but he decides he'll take it. 

Rodney seems to understand him perfectly, because he sighs and drops his hand and looks at him like John's stupid but he doesn't have energy to explain why. 

"You happened," he says. "You nearly died on me." 

"'m not dead," John notices reasonably. He wonders why he sounds so high and glances at the beeping tech near him. There's an IV in his arm. Maybe morphine, he figures. 

"Obviously," Rodney huffs. "But you've been out for three days and went through two surgeries. We were kind of worried."

John hums at him quietly. 

Rodney sighs. 

He sits there quietly for a while, medical gear beeping soothingly around them. John closes his eyes and decides he kinda likes what morphine does to his head. It makes him feel real nice and peaceful. He wants to ask what Rodney was saying before he woke up, but decided not to. It probably was just latest news of how someone screwed up and he fixed it and how nobody appreciates his genius for what it is anyway. 

"So, uh," Rodney says, dragging John out of his half-dreaming state. "I've been thinking." John opens one eye and looks at him lazily. Rodney doesn't look back - he's rubbing at his cheek, his gaze somewhere on the floor. "How about, uh. A date."

John opens another eye and turns his head just to stare at him. Rodney notices and rolls his eyes. 

"Oh, what? I'm not allowed to ask? You've just had a near death experience, I've nearly lost a friend, we're both, uh," he waves a hand at John, probably trying to say 'bi', 'single' and maybe 'not good at talking about stuff'. "I just don't see why not." 

John sighs.

"Rodney," he says slowly. "I'm drugged." 

"As if you're gonna talk to me sober," Rodney huffs. "You'll just say something like 'forget it, McKay' with your Colonel voice and leave me staring as you walk away."

"No," John says. "Not happening." But he knows Rodney's right, so it comes out halfhearted and not too convincing, and Rodney catches onto that.

"Well I'm not taking it," he says, determined. "You're gonna tell me if you want this or not, right now." 

John sighs and looks up at the ceiling. He wonders if death is still an option. 

"It's not the point, McKay," he says. 

"It's the only point that matters," Rodney says, and suddenly his thigh presses against John's legs as he sits beside him on the bed carefully. "Come on."

John looks at him, and there's actual honest to god hope in Rodney's eyes. He puts a hand on Rodney's thigh where he can reach it and doesn't even have to say anything - it's all on his face, loud and clear, and he can see hope turning into sad acceptance as Rodney gets it. 

"I see," Rodney says quietly, his chin jerking up as he averts his eyes. John wishes the drugs helped with the psychosomatic pain too, so that he wouldn't feel his heart clench painfully at that. The worst part is that Rodney's not even angry, he's hurt, and that's not familiar at all, he doesn't know how to deal with this. 

"Sorry," he tries. 

"No-no, it's okay." Rodney says. "I just thought maybe..." he gestures vaguely. 

"Yeah," John sighs. "You're better off anyway. 'M not good at this."

"I'd rather see for myself," Rodney says. "Scientist, remember?" John pushes his lips into a thin line. He doesn't know what to say to that. Fortunately, Rodney doesn't need him to - he hops off the bed, shaking himself up, and claps his hands together. "Well, I'm gonna go tell people you're awake. Get better and all that."

John watches him go and thinks that if McKay walks out right now - that's it. He won't be able to clean that mess up, and he's gonna be too afraid to try anyway. He thinks that maybe he's gonna have to go with his gut and fling it, like he always does. He listens to his instincts and sighs at the ceiling, letting an impulse push the word out of his throat. 

"McKay."

Rodney turns around and looks at him, his expression unreadable. John takes a breath.

"I want to," he says. He can see tension leaving Rodney's shoulders, so he hurries to clarify. "I'm not agreeing to anything yet, I just. We'll talk. But I want to." 

There's a pause, during which Rodney looks like he wants to ask "Really?" and then processes the idea and John feels a knot tie itself in his chest. Then Rodney smiles.

"Good," he says, and John exhales in relief discretely. "Good, we'll talk."

"Wanna come eat my food for dinner?" John suggests. 

"Well, I'm kinda tied up in the lab at the moment," Rodney starts. He glances at John's raised eyebrow and sighs. "Okay, I'll think of something."

"Okay," John smiles. 

Rodney smiles back. He hesitates a moment more, then actually bounces on his heels, and then walks out of the room. John thinks that this is absolutely not how he would imagine this to happen. 

He's kinda glad.


End file.
